


a story that's enough for me

by amelioratedays



Category: GOT7, Infinite - Fandom
Genre: Crossover, Gyubum, Idol Verse, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 05:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2801084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amelioratedays/pseuds/amelioratedays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaebum finds him and Sunggyu more than similar, and the world spirals down when Sunggyu catches him staring more than once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a story that's enough for me

**Author's Note:**

> I had some feels. Inspired by Gyu's song (60 Seconds) and both of their episodes on The Four Things Show.

 

It's another sleepless night, where he's tired—mentally and physically—but he can't bring himself to rest without unwinding the day's stress away. So he sits by himself in front of the television while his members slept their worries away. He's flipping through channels when he stops on a rerun of The Four Things Show. He remembers meetings and cameras, the horridly embarrassing stick figures he drew on national television.  
  
It's not his episode.  
It's Sunggyu's.  
  
He's watching how the older flails through magic tricks, losing his front as Sungyeol uncovered his secrets, when he realizes how much he empathizes with the elder. It doesn't surprise him, how similar they were. Each the respective leader of their groups, shielding dreams and burdens.  
  
 _“I feel as if the team's fate corresponds to how I act.”_  
“If anything goes wrong, I think it's my fault.”  
  
And he understands, because he's also the one that goes in for suffocating meetings when things go wrong. He's the one that pushes all his members to their limits, eyes cold and voice harsh.  
  
He's not one, he's seven.  
  
He goes to bed after an hour of soft voices and eye smiles and he's reminiscing folded dreams. He's not a b-boy anymore. He's not in a rock band anymore. Jaebum dreams of old subway stations and he wonders vaguely if Sunggyu dreams about late night music gigs.  
  
He catches a rerun of "Weekly Idol" a few nights later. They're eating midnight snacks in the living room as they watch Infinite trample over their leader. Jaebum's reminded of the way Jinyoung leads everyone into ways to torment him—members following their mother like little ducklings. There's no paternal love in the group, even less for their team's resident grandfather. Jaebum thinks he should join a grandpa coalition, Im-halbae and Gyu-halbae sleeping on park benches under afternoon sun.  
  
It's borderline ridiculous, Jaebum finds as he views their senior's rehearsal stage from the sidelines. Infinite's comeback was a week before their's and he sees them too much—small eyes catching a certain someone too fast. The older male is bowing onstage, dragging his band mates and stopping his ex-roommate from throwing hearts at fans that weren't even his. Jaebum doesn't realize he's staring until Jinyoung tells him, jolting him back to reality. The younger male pulls him back towards their waiting room and Jaebum reluctantly follows.  
  
"I didn't know you were an Inspirit."  
  
"I'm not."  
  
"I beg to differ. You stay up watching all their old shows." Jinyoung chides, intertwining their fingers as they walk down the corridor.  
  
"No I don't." Jaebum lies through his teeth and he knows that Jinyoung doesn't buy it. But the other doesn't interrogate and Jaebum lets Jinyoung pull him back to his leaderly duties.  
  
It becomes too much of a habit; the first thing he does upon arrival is to check the rehearsal schedule, making sure he has time to sneak out in time to catch synchronized dancing and effortless harmonies. He's only slightly jealous, how well Sunngyu and Woohyun's voice fit together. How they don't have to search through scales to find the right notes. How they know when to take on melody, when to retreat to harmony. It's useless envy, how he has to plan with Youngjae—designating parts and practicing till night falls—because Sunggyu has known Woohyun for so long. And he's only known Youngjae for so little.  
  
But even Jinyoung, who he's known since the beginning of time, fails to match him sometimes. He's not a main vocal, but Jaebum's sure that the younger male's voice melted in his own. So perfectly too. So why does it collide so often?  
  
"We don't match as well as I'd like us too." Jaebum mumbles as they wait on standby.  
  
"Are you breaking up with me?" Jinyoung interrogates, feigning hurt as he covered his chest.  
  
"No."  
  
"So are you suggesting you want us to match more?"  
  
"No." He repeats stoically.  
  
"Take in mind that I match you more than you match me. You don't even try."  
  
He's refuting for the third time and ends the conversation, ushering the members onstage. He's running up unlit stairwells and platforms, missing the eyes that bore holes on the back of his head.  
  
"You're staring." Woohyun informs his leader.  
  
"He stares at me." Sunggyu retaliates.  
  
"How are you so sure it's you that he stares at? Maybe it's Hoya, 200% of our male fans like Hoya."  
  
Sunggyu snorts and pushes back onto the younger male, "Nah, I'm pretty sure he stares at me."  
  
"If you say so." Woohyun dismisses his thoughts and goes back to throwing his grease-filled hearts at the audience. Sunggyu looks onstage, catching the small winks and nervous puffs of breath that the younger male let out. Their eyes meet for a second and he smiles, laughing when Jaebum trips and stumbles back into choreographed moves. He's still laughing when the song ends and GOT7 rushes downstage.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
It's a small world, really, and the next time he sees Jaebum is two days later. He's attempting to match lyrics to melodies when the door of the cafe pushes open. He looks up to find the younger boy walking to the counter, side profile a bit too endearing and Sunggyu jots down a line about secret glances and overlong bangs.  
  
Jaebum fumbles for the note in his pocket. He's a great leader, he deems, picking up midnight coffee for ungrateful members. Everyone wants a different order and he smiles apologetically to the barista who's reviewing his order. Closing his eyes and leaning onto the countertop, Jaebum hums to himself. He stops, eyes opening when a voice joins his, voice stuck in his esophagus. The older male smiles and Jaebum realizes he forgot to bow when he's pulled to the window booth. There's no introduction and the first words that Sunggyu lets out is, "You stare."  
  
Jaebum is sputtering incoherent words, vocabulary failing him as he tries to refute. But the older male only gives him an incredulous look when he finally lets out a "I don't."  
  
He's flustered, stuttering in baritone, "I-I-I just thought w-w-we were kind o-of similar."  
  
"Huh?" It's not an answer Sunggyu expects and he raises an eyebrow in question.  
  
"I watched your episode of The Four Things Show."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"It was the episode after mine."  
  
"Oh." Sunggyu's smiling again, and Jaebum thinks it kind of blinds him. Too bright, he mutters. He's still stuttering, talking about leadership and burdens and ungrateful members who only know how to call him a grandfather and  _howdoyoumatchsowellwithwoohyun_  when he registers what he just said. He stops abruptly and bids his farewell in one breath, speed walking to deliver caffeine back to sleep-deprived members. He spends the night regretting all his life decisions, because— _fuck_ —speaking was obviously not his forte. He tosses and turns to the point where Youngjae wakes up, smothering him with pillows as he whines, "Hyung, just go to sleep."  
  
Jinyoung tells him the same when he enters his room, creeping under covers and trying to find some sort of comfort. "You're a horrible best friend." Jaebum grits out and proceeds to crush the younger boy in a hold until Jinyoung gives in and listens to him vent. He's halfway through talking about his incoherent spasms when Jinyoung throws the blankets over him. "Hyung, I'm really too tired to hear you talk about your raging crush on Sunggyu."  
  
"I don't have a crush on him!"  
  
Jinyoung doesn't answer and Jaebum continues to toss and turn. Jinyoung loses four full hours of sleep and wrath ensues for the rest of GOT7. Yugyeom gets reprimanded twice as much as usual and Jackson’s lunchbox ends up on the floor. Jinyoung traps Jaebum in the waiting room and he doesn't get to leave.  
  
"You're petty." Jaebum says, eyes glancing at the closed door.  
  
"Yes, thank you." Jinyoung nonchalantly replies.  
  
"Why can't I go out?"  
  
"Because what kind of leader disappears on his members?"  
  
"I have to go to the bathroom!"  
  
"I'll go with you." Jinyoung states and Jaebum gives him a rather distasteful look. "I don't want to go with you."  
  
"Oh right." Jinyoung starts, "You want to go with Sunggyu."  
  
"Fuck you."  
  
"I'm pretty sure you want to do that with Sunggyu too." He replies and Jaebum wants to punch the smirk off the other male's face.  
  
But he doesn't.  
Because there's a knock at the door and their manager opens it to find Infinite's resident hamster. Jaebum's spluttering words again, tongue tying itself as the older male motions for him.  
  
"I watched your episode of  _The Four Things Show_."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"And I conclude that we're quite similar as well."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Do you want me to stare at you during rehearsal too?"  
  
"What?!"  
  
Jinyoung's laughing in the background and he hears the hyena pitched shrill that Jackson lets out before he drags Sunggyu down the corridor and out of sight. "I don't stare at you." Jaebum refutes for the fifth time and Sunggyu only snorts out an, "It's okay, I understand." He's chuckling again and Jaebum can't decide if he wants it to continue or end.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
They're sitting by the windowsill, legs grazing against one another as they start off in idle chatter. He starts off on old b-boy days and the other follows with stories of band practice. They both miss the past, but he knows that both of them are holding onto more precious things than sepia tinted dreams. They each have a basketful of six, a handful for hectic mornings but perfect for lonely nights. Sunggyu talks about meetings with authorities and Jaebum shudders when he remembers opening closed doors. It’s conversations like this that Jaebum’s reaffirmed of his initial thought, how much they parallel each other in alternate worlds.  
  
We match well, Jaebum thinks.  
  
Everything’s great except for the fact that Sunggyu has taken it in him to maintain fifteen minute chats with Jaebum upon meeting since the first time he knocked at the waiting room's door. And much to Jaebum's dismay, Jinyoung still laughs like a maniac when the older male came to find him.  
  
“You should really stop dropping by our waiting room.” Jaebum lets out in an exasperated sigh.  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because it’s inconvenient.” (Because Jinyoung will never let me live it down.)  
  
“No, it isn’t.” Sunggyu refutes, tracing his fingertips over the pages of his notebook.  
  
“Yes, it is.”  
  
“For who?”  
  
“For your members.” He states flatly, grabbing his notebook back from the elder.  
  
“The melody gets awkward in the third measure.” Sunggyu says, changing the subject abruptly. Jaebum resigns his notebook (a present from Mark) and pen (one of the three from Jinyoung) and watches Sunggyu operate on his composition. A chord change here and there, Jaebum hums to the tune and Sunggyu smiles. Two grandpas at the park sitting under golden rays, he thinks. “You can give me part of the copyright fees, right?” He jokes. Jaebum laughs, voice sonorous and Sunggyu pulls him closer. “That or you can give me your number.”  
  
It’s about as cheesy as a full course Italian meal and Sunggyu thinks he hangs around Woohyun just a bit too much. “That’s a really bad pick-up line,” Jaebum cringes, “And we don’t have phones.”  
  
“Then give me your mail address.”  
  
“Are we reverting to primal ages?”  
  
“Yes.” Sunggyu’s persistent and Jaebum simply laughs, falling into the older male’s arms.  
  
“Are you going to write me love letters.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Sunggyu doesn’t actually write him letters, but Jaebum is satisfied with the postcards nonetheless. He pastes them on his wall despite Youngjae’s opposition and stares at them to his heart’s content after late night dance practices. Jaebum sends him compositions instead, ripped pages from his music notebook full of new melodies and emotions. He also tries his hardest to perfect penmanship, but the course of life (love) never does run smooth, and Jaebum curses himself for being a lefty in writing. Especially when he eats perfectly well with chopsticks in his right. It doesn’t take much for Jinyoung to figure out who his weekly love letters are from and Jaebum has to give half of his wallet away to keep him from informing Jackson who’s wooing their leader.  
  
It doesn’t help that Mark slides beside him one morning and stares him in the eye, gaze firm and tone stern; “So, who’s courting you?” He nearly spills his coffee and tries hard not to spit on their eldest hyung, forcing burning caffeine down his throat. “I’m not being courted.” He refutes, grabbing his food and retreating back to his room. Closing the door behind him, he hears scurried footsteps followed by Yugyeom’s inquiry of, “Well, who is it??” and Mark’s adamant reply of, “He didn’t tell me.” Bam Bam attempts to enquire him a few days later, settling food on the table before letting out a cautious, “Hyung, are you dating someone?” He hears Jinyoung snickering in the background and he turns to throw his spoon at the younger member of JJ Project. “You’re a horrible best friend,” he mutters while grabbing his food. “You’re all horrible members,” he mutters while closing his bedroom door.  
  
He receives a parcel one day, a small gift box adorned with ribbons that he has to pry away from over-curious magnaes. Because from what he knew, curiosity killed the cat, and  _why couldn’t people just learn?_  He opens the box to find a pair of earrings, and Jaebum tries hard not to think about how they had matching piercings and perhaps—just perhaps—matching earrings now too.  
  
Unsurprisingly, he fails.  
Much to Jinyoung’s amusement.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The only time that Sunggyu comes in person, Jaebum locks himself in his bedroom. It’s been six hours since his accident and he couldn’t bring it in him to talk to anyone. Because if anything, he should be fine—no life threatening injuries, no helpless nights on the surgery table. He should be fine. But he isn’t, and he imagines the shards of glass that could have embedded into his skin. Imagines the way dented metal jabs into his lungs, head crashing through broken windows. So many  _what if’s_  filling his mind that he can’t breathe. He should be fine, really, but Jaebum can’t stop himself from seeing altered memories.  
  
The others have been knocking at the door since his return, but Jaebum doesn’t really want to talk. He can’t really hear their voices anyways, muffled sounds making their way through wooden doors as he sits on his bed. There’s a veil over the world and all he feels is disconnected—from everything, from everyone. He doesn’t want to close his eyes though (doesn’t want to face the amount of  _nothing_  in his thoughts) turning on his lamp to stare at his wall. He’s fine, he thinks while looking at the postcards that adorned the wall.  
  
He’s fine, he thinks while humming nameless tunes.  
  
He’s fine, he thinks while twirling his earring around fingertips.  
  
He’s fine, he thinks as his ears pick up the sound of the door unlocking.  
  
 _He’s not fine_ , he thinks as he falls into Sunggyu’s arms.  
  
Sunggyu holds him tight; heart beat pulsing through his veins and Jaebum hears the sound of tires skidding, metal colliding. There are tears running down his face, vision blurring as he grips onto the older male who reassures him with hushed whispers of “It’s okay,” “Everything’s over,” and “I’m here now.” It’s in the middle of Jaebum convulsing, eyes wandering everywhere but on him, that Sunggyu realizes the younger was going through a seizure. Arms trembling and blood stopping, Jaebum doesn’t know if his heart’s beating. All he feels is his trachea constricting and lungs deflating, everything is screaming, he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe,  _he can’t breathe._  
  
There’s iron in his throat.  
  
Sunggyu’s shouting, probably for help, but Jaebum can’t hear him—can’t focus enough through teary eyes to read his lips. But a minute (an eternity) later, he’s pulled up by three different pairs of arms and someone is prying his mouth open—blood staining his cheeks vermillion. Jaebum feels his spine realigning and muscles twisting in every way that he doesn’t want, pain lacing his arteries. He’s still shaking when he regains his consciousness, though he isn’t really sure if he lost it to begin with. There are seven pairs of eyes on him and he tries his best not to shrink back into the mattress.  
  
Someone’s talking about hypotension, psychogenic seizures, and post traumatic stress disorder but the buzz in Jaebum’s ears prevents him from listening further. “There’s white noise in my head,” he tells Sunggyu. “And snowflakes on the ceiling.” No one gives him a reply and Jaebum only continues, “Is it winter?” There’s a slight frown on Mark’s face and Jaebum wants to question it—but doesn’t because his head hurts, throat hurts, back hurts; everything hurts. He feels like he’s walked two mountains and back, stumbling on legs that weren’t his.  
  
He’s numb, pins and needles dancing under his skin, and it isn’t until Jinyoung brings everyone home and Sunggyu stays that he starts feeling again. The older male holds his hand, and it takes a while until Jaebum is able to move his fingers—interlacing them with the others’.  
  
“Why are you here?”  
  
“I was worried.” Sunggyu sighs, running his hand through his hair. “You almost bit yourself to death, you know.”  
  
“Oh.” And Jaebum vaguely remembers the metallic aftertaste in his mouth.  
  
“Are you okay now?”  
  
“Maybe.”  
  
“ _Maybe?_ ”  
  
“Sing me a song.” Jaebum says, lifting the hospital covers and pulling the older male onto the bed. He shifts over and Sunggyu holds him in place, preventing him from manhandling his intravenous needle.  
  
“You’re not answering the question.”  
  
“I’ll be better if you sing me a song.” He refutes. “Sing me the one about sixty-second stories.”  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
 _I kept walking when I stopped and looked around–then I met eyes with you  
I quickly turned my head and stared at my feet–then I slowly looked up_  
 _My eyes widen, my lips slowly part  
My heart is ringing in my ears_  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Jaebum isn’t exactly better, but Sunggyu knows he’s coping. He doesn’t see the younger male jolt at sounds of parked cars and the initial muscle spasms had died down to occasional numbness. He also takes it to be a good sign that the other didn’t ask him about snowflakes on the ceiling anymore. Though he learns that when Jaebum tucks his head slightly and shifts forward, he’s still thinking it’s winter. “It’s okay. Winter is romantic.” He states while examining the bruises on the other’s arm, an array of red and blue. “It’s okay. Winter is romantic.” Jaebum repeats, chuckling at the thought before resting his head onto the older male.  
  
“Super romantic, you coul—” Sunggyu reassures.  
  
“We have matching piercings, you know?” Jaebum interrupts.  
  
“I know.”  
  
“We have matching earrings too, you know?” He says, fingertips grazing the silver stud on Sunggyu’s ear.  
  
“I know that too.” Sunggyu smiles, because he spent about forever picking out the present—bracing against Sungyeol’s needless advices and Sungjong’s impatientness.  
  
“That’s pretty romantic, don’t you think?”  
  
“Well, that’s good enough for me.” He replies, pulling the other towards himself—lips meeting lips.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
 _60 seconds is enough for this story  
You have entered my heart  
I don’t doubt that you have taken me in this not-so-short time  
That’s the kind of person you are, a story that’s enough for me  
I don’t need a reason  
You made my heart flutter and you made me find you–that first time_

**Author's Note:**

> So yar, I had me some feels and I maked this. Because truthfully, these two are my biases and there's really a lot in common when I think about it on sleepless nights. This is probably considered a semi-AU but idk, and wow that is so much OOC-ness on Sunggyu's side. :c
> 
> Lyric translations form infinite7soul.com


End file.
